Mint Green Knickers and a Bad Bet
by preciselypotter
Summary: The harrowing account of Mr Prongs as he faces off against impossible odds, lumbering idiots, furious young ladies, and most impressively his own staggering idiocy, with additional commentary from Messrs Moony, Wormtail, and Padfoot. Recorded in the two-way journal known as the Marauder's Log.


_Wow I should probably post this story here already and have done with it! Disclaimer: not my sandbox.  
_

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**Mint Green Knickers and a Bad Bet**

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**Marauder's Log:**

_**Marauder**__: Mr Prongs  
__**Date**__: Saturday, 23 April, 1977, approximately 4pm_  
_**Location**__: 3__rd__ floor behind tapestry of boozy wizards  
__**Situation**__: dire_

Quite possibly the worst idea I have ever come up with. The very worst.

There's a list of horrible decisions made by yours truly locked away in Padfoot's trunk, waiting for the unlikely day that I double-cross him. If I pulled it out right now (if I could find the bloody thing) I would not have a single example of a worse decision than the one I made three hours ago.

It's all fun and games until you're trapped behind a tapestry with no Invisibility Cloak to speak of and an irate ginger out for blood.

Specifically, my blood.

I'm not sure holding onto the evidence of my guilt (and supremely awful idea) is a good plan in this situation, but I've come too far now.

Let me start from the beginning.

I know, Moony, you told me not to listen to Colin MacShane this morning. You were absolutely right and I am, once again, a great big prat. I'll never learn! Just learn to accept me for the idiot I am and things will be much easier from here on out.

But after I left the table, MacShane followed me into the Entrance Hall. The conversation went something like this:

MacShane: Har har, I'm so dumb I think Lily Evans is actually going to date me.

Self: Yes, quite right, bugger off.

MacShane: -indecipherable troll noises-

Self: Why yes, you are a big lumbering idiot with pudding for brains.

MacShane: Well, I bet you

You know what? I won't give him the benefit of my perfect memory [because he had a bloody good line]. Just know that, essentially, he made some stupid joke about how I'd be fifty and still after Evans for a pair of her knickers to smell, and of course I told him that's stupid, I wouldn't be after her when I'm fifty because she'll have probably married me at that point and that I've already got a pair of her knickers anyway AND I KNOW, MOONY, IT WAS INCREDIBLY STUPID.

It's Evans, alright? Some tosser asks her out and if she does anything but tell him off I'm worried. Not on my behalf, of course, but on hers – she's too good for the blokes in this school.

(She's probably too good for me, come to think of it.)

(Nah.)

So there I am, telling MacShane I've got a pair of Evan's knickers stowed away when I obviously don't, and even he's not that stupid, he calls my bluff. Everyone knows Evans isn't the type of girl to give out knickers and if she did, they wouldn't be going to me.

But what was I supposed to do?

Self: You're right, I'm a rotten liar. I'm just horrifically jealous of you and your mysterious allure toward the prettiest girl in school or possibly ever. I'm so pathetic that I had to make up a story about weddings and a son named Elvendork and girls' pants in my nightstand. Merlin, it's no wonder Evans won't date me.

Hah, right.

When have I ever been smart enough to

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_**Marauder**__: Messrs Padfoot and Moony  
__**Date**__: Saturday, 23 April, 1977, 4:32pm  
__**Location**__: dorm  
__**Situation**__: unable to contain laughter_

Prongs? Prongs? What happened?

Oh, Merlin, is it true? You got into the girls' dorms? Were you really that stupid?

Prongs, mate, you can't leave us hanging like that.

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_**Marauder**__: Mr Prongs  
__**Date**__: Saturday, 23 April, 1977, approximately 4:30pm  
__**Location**__: Qudditch field, specifically the Gryffindor lockers  
__**Situation**__: temporarily secure, on standby_

Sorry, gents. My location was discovered and I had to dash before Evans could murder me. Which I'm certain was her plan.

I believe I left off right after I told Colin MacShane that I had Evans' knickers in my possession. Of course he didn't believe me. Why would he believe me? So I did the only sensible thing I could do in that situation – I kept my cards hidden and played out my bluff.

You know what's coming, don't you?

Yeah, I told MacShane I'd show him the knickers. Tonight, actually. At eight in the Trophy Room – I thought it was sort of fitting, that.

It gets worse.

Because I am, apparently, out of my fucking mind, I even made a bet on it.

If I show up empty handed, I forfeit the Quidditch Final to Hufflepuff – entirely MacShane's idea, I assure you – and if I've got the goods, he's got to wear a dress during our last Hogsmeade visit of the year and his alleged date with Lily Evans.

Obviously I can't back off the bet because then he'll know I'm full of shit and at this point… well, there's really nothing I can say here that makes me sound less mental.

Like you always say, Padfoot, if you're going to muck up, make sure it's spectacular.

Right after MacShane left, though, I couldn't think about getting Evans' knickers because I had practice to get to. You know, practice for the Final that I'll probably end up forfeiting after all is said and done. I couldn't exactly tell the team that I compromised our chances of even playing in the match over proof of knickers that I don't even have.

It was a good practice, by the way. O'Shassey has really improved her swing this season – if I didn't know how awkward she used to be with that bat, I'd think she was a natural at this. And I'm sorry to have lost Edwin for the rest of the season but bringing on Tassy Smith instead of Winston Mackerey was one of the best choices I've ever made (what sort of a name is Winston Mackerey anyway it sounds like his parents wanted him to suffer for his entire life) because Tassy is the best Keeper I've ever worked with. You lot have to come down and watch us practice sometime with her because I can barely get a goal past her – she's incredible, the Quaffle wants to come to her or something.

I really think we have the match in the bag if I can keep Tassy on the team. Not that I'm expecting resistance from the rest, but she's got her OWLs to prep for and with eleven classes she's already stretched thin. I'm trying to compromise with her schedule but if I make allowances for one team member then I have to make them for all, and if Benny decides he'd rather spend Wednesday nights with the Charms Club and

Shit I'm sorry.

Evans, knickers, right.

After practice I hung around talking with Anne, you know, sort of talking about our chances against Hufflepuff.

Honestly it's a bit awkward with her now that I know she fancies me as much as that. I really like her but it's weird having her look at me all the time and going red in the face. It'll be easier next year when she's gone though I'm not looking forward to replacing her, she's a brilliant Chaser.

Anyway, we were talking, and Anne mentioned something about a cold catching in her dorm room because some daft skirt (she wouldn't say which one) left the window open overnight, and I got to thinking. There was me on my Cleansweep, and there the tower was, just over to the left and up a ways, and –

Yes, alright? I know it was not a good idea but at the time it made perfect sense.

So I flew up there after everyone had gone back up to the castle. They all think I'm nuts, it wasn't hard to convince them I was staying behind to work on strategies.

First let me tell you – Wormtail's theory about the girls' dorms? Absolutely correct. We're all mental.

It looks just like ours except maybe a bit cleaner. There are five beds instead of four, though, and everything's sort of flipped like in a mirror. No pink walls, no lace anywhere. It's actually embarrassing to think we were so sure it looked just like Madam Puddifoot's.

Second, no one was in the dorm when I got there. It was too good to be true, though I didn't realise it at the time.

Here's where I really messed it up: I left my broom by the window when I started poking around.

I had to do some decent poking around, too, since there were five beds and I had no idea where to start. I felt a bit awful for going through the girls' things but I had a match to consider and my dignity, both of which are probably lost already. They're sort of slobs, though, our fellow Gryffindors. Bras and skirts and ties all over their beds.

There was this one bra with pink polka dots that

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_**Marauder**__: Messrs Padfoot, Moony, and Wormtail  
__**Date**__: Saturday, 23 April, 1977, 6:15pm  
__**Location**__: dorm  
__**Situation**__: a bit worried about Mr Prongs' safety_

Let the record show that it is Moony doing the actual writing here, and not either of my companions who seem physically incapable of writing anything down ever, be it for academic or recreational purposes.

As it is, the three of us are growing nervous in regards to Prongs' monumentally daft decision to steal a pair of Lily Evans' knickers. From what we've heard – mainly from Wormtail's excellent sleuthing – Lily was seen shouting him down on the fourth floor a little before Prongs took refuge on the third floor and began recounting his misadventures, but beyond that she is also mysteriously absent from the castle.

Wormtail in particular is concerned that Lily has finally decided to end Prongs' life, whereas Padfoot is convinced the two of them are "shagging it up" (his words, not mine) and his only concern is that "Prongs is never coming back to us now" which is utterly ridiculous.

One of us will investigate after dinner to see what has become of our idiot friend.

(Sorry, Prongs, but we're hungry.)

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_**Marauder**__: Mr Prongs  
__**Date**__: Saturday, 23 April, 1977, 6:44pm  
__**Location**__: dorm  
__**Situation**__: in a state of disbelief_

This is bloody ridiculous.

I come here to tell you lot what's been happening and you head off to dinner? Not only that, but you thought I might be dead and you headed off TO DINNER?

With friends like you, who needs Snivellus?

I've half a mind not to tell you what happened now, Padfoot will probably pull out his stupid list and read it to the masses if I don't. Well, I'm not hungry, so I'll just write it all down and then fall asleep because it has been a trying day and for Merlin's sake, don't bother Evans at dinner.

Look, so when I stopped writing earlier it was because Evans found me in the lockers. She was furious but not for the reasons you'd think, actually.

I can barely believe it myself.

You see, while I was poking around the girls' dorm Evans was on her way up to the dorm to drop off her books and things. Can you believe she was studying on a Saturday? And in the library? Point is, I'd just started rifling through a trunk when she walked in, and of course she caught me picking up a pair of knickers. Lovely things, too, all lacey and soft and pink.

Of course she screamed at me, but not for a few seconds. No, first she got all red in the face as she stared at me. I stared back. It was a sort of contest, I guess, a who-was-more-surprised competition. Then the screaming and she started running for me like she was going to rip my head off.

I panicked. Well, obviously. Who in their right minds would go up against Lily Evans?

I completely forgot my Cleansweep and just headed for the door. I know, it's completely unlike me, but I wasn't exactly using logic at this point. Pure instinct, yeah?

Only thing is, I've got to go past Evans on my way out and she sort of grabs at me and manages to nick the skin. I'll show you all tomorrow, it's right on my face and it looks wretched. I get past her and I start running down the stairs when I remember my Cleansweep so I turn around to head up and the staircase…

Well, I'm sure you heard about this part. It turned into a slide, didn't it? Just like all the other times. But this time was different, because I was at nearly the top of the stairs and I had to slide all the way down and of course Evans was chasing me to do me in so I had to get right up which is bloody difficult, let me tell you, that's the worst slide in the world.

You already know she chased me to the third floor and started yelling at me.

I managed to get away using the shortcut behind Uric the Oddball and camped out behind the boozy wizards' tapestry, where I thought I'd be secure enough to write down what happened in case Evans sent me to the Hospital Wing or something.

What I'd been planning at that point was to have one of you show up in my place with some of that Polyjuice Potion we knicked from Slughorn last week and give Colin bloody MacShane

SHIT

Mates, I completely forgot I've got to show the knickers to MacShane in an hour.

Actually no, not shit, I've got them.

Funny thing about that – when Evans finally found me in the lockers, she was so angry with me and I kept trying to tell her I'd give her pants back, I promised, and then she said, and this is word-for-word, I solemnly swear

Evans: Go ahead and keep them! What do I care if you've got Mary's knickers?

(Yeah.)

Self: Er…

Evans: It's alright, really! I don't care if you fancy Mary now, it makes my life so much easier. The only reason I'm here is because you clearly like her much more than you used to like me and decided it would be fucking brilliant to break into our dorm.

Self: Hang on a minute, these are Mary's?

Evans: Of course they are! Don't act you don't know, you can see she labels her things!

And of course, when I checked I saw "Mary Macdonald" written on the back. Some pretty fancy spellwork, too, that writing.

Self: Evans, I'd only just grabbed them when you came in. I thought they were yours, I thought that's why you got so cross!

Evans: What?

She sort of stood there for a few moments, staring at me and then she asked me why in Merlin's name I was after her knickers. I mean, besides the obvious reasons? I would have thought she'd guess that right off the bat, she knows I still fancy her – right?

I explained the bet I made with Colin MacShane this morning, about the Quidditch Final and all and here's what she said to that:

Evans: Why would Colin MacShane care about my knickers?

Self: Well, you did tell him you might go to Hogsmeade with him last night.

Evans: What? No I – oh, so that's what he was on about.

Self: Excuse me?

(This is probably the second-best part of the whole thing)

Evans: I was studying last night with Sally in the library for a bit and MacShane came up to us. I wasn't really paying attention, I thought he was asking for study help next Saturday. Merlin, he thought I was asking him out?

That's right, gents, Colin MacShane's a bigger prat than we'd thought.

Self: Yeah, apparently. You mind giving these back to Mary then? I can't use them.

Alright, and this is the best part. See, when I give Evans the pants, she gets this look on her face and says "hold on, stay there" and steps around the corner into the showers. I have no idea what's going on, not a bit until she steps out and

I KID YOU NOT, SHE IS HOLDING OUT HER KNICKERS.

Evans: Make sure you win the Final, alright? And tell Colin MacShane I'm not interested.

I'm embarrassed to say I was a puddle of drool at that point. Lily Evans handed me a pair of her knickers. I didn't have to steal them, she just handed them to me. They were fucking warm and soft, much softer than Mary's stupid pink pants. Mint green knickers with "L.E." on the back in tiny handwriting.

That has to mean she likes me, right?

She left right after that and I sort of stood there watching her. What can you say to that? Oh, I'm sure Padfoot would've said something very smooth had it been him and not me but I was just trying to keep myself decent.

(Evans wasn't wearing pants, you see. Hard to keep my head on with that happening.)

I'm off to shove Evan's underthings in Colin MacShane's stupid face – not really, though, he can't have these ever – and tell him to pick out a dress.

Don't think I'm still not cross with you lot. If I thought you were dying or something horrible had possibly happened, I wouldn't go to dinner first. You three should be ashamed of yourself and for that you don't get to see Evan's green knickers. I'll put them away somewhere so safe Padfoot's list will appear out of envy for that hiding spot.

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_**Marauder**__: Messrs Padfoot and Wormtail  
__**Date**__: Saturday, 23 April, 1977, 7:52pm  
__**Location**__: dorm  
__**Situation**__: irate_

Wormtail writing, as Moony has stayed behind to flirt with Celia Sworn – like he'd ever admit it.

First of all, does that mean Evans wasn't wearing pants all through dinner? Merlin, that's one of the best things I've ever heard. (Padfoot agrees.)

Second of all, I'd really like to know when those mirrors will be out of the shop and fixed up because writing everything down is really annoying. I don't understand how you write so much, Prongs. And you seem to enjoy it. Bizarre.

Padfoot wants me to tell you he's disappointed in you for not shagging Evans and for not sharing the knickers with the rest of us.

See you later tonight.

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_**Marauder**__: Mr Prongs  
__**Date**__: Saturday, 23 April, 1977 8:56pm  
__**Location**__: you'll never guess  
__**Situation**__: not telling_

Just wanted to let you gents know that I won't be coming back tonight. It seems I have a pair of knickers to return and the young lady has certain requirements for me to meet.


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